“Do you want Neve to be right?” Beth said. “She’s already teased you about your weight gain once.”
“I’ll go running with you tomorrow,” I promised. “Let me have some more.”
“No way. We’re having a slice of cake after this.”
She had a point, so I went over to give Pixie some scratches while Beth mixed together the ingredients for the carrot-walnut cakes and poured the mixture into cake pans.
“I’m really glad your online bakery’s taking off,” I told Beth.
She came over to give Pixie a bit of walnut, and the parrot grabbed it gleefully and scratched her head as a sign of happiness. Pixie purred at Beth and began chewing her nut.
“I got lucky,” Beth said. “Nobody needs a physical store anymore. It’s all about reviews and reputation.”
I nodded. “Speaking of reputation. What about the fact that Tim was such a ladies’ man?”
Beth went over to take the vanilla cakes out of the oven and slid in the carrot-walnut mixture. As she spread icing over the cakes and made blue icing roses on the larger cake intended for her client, she said, “You don’t think one of his three ladies killed him, do you?”
“Or maybe they all ganged up to kill him, after they got sick of his lies.”
We went over what Elaine, Kandy and Wendy had told us, but we couldn’t see any reason for any of them to kill Tim, let alone destroy the café.
“Maybe Elaine was frustrated that her macaron business was taking so long to get off the ground,” Beth suggested as she cut into the smaller vanilla cake and served me a slice.
“She was having dinner and drinks at John’s Bistro till late, remember? She couldn’t have killed him. Mmm, this is delicious.” I usually wasn’t too fond of vanilla cake, but this concoction was light and fluffy, and the icing complemented it perfectly.
“We need to check her alibi,” Beth reminded me. “Maybe she wasn’t at John’s Bistro.”
“Maybe Mike’s hiding something,” I said. “We should at least check him out online.”
We finished up our thin slivers of cake and Googled Mike’s name to see if we could come up with anything about his life, but nothing much came up. He didn’t seem to be active on social networking sites, he didn’t have a resume up on the jobs and networking sites, and there weren’t any news articles about him.
“Let’s do Neve now,” said Beth.
I winced visibly. “I don’t think I can stand to read about her.”
Thankfully, the oven timer went off just then, and Beth went to retrieve her carrot-walnut cakes. I waited impatiently as she spread icing on both of them and decorated the larger one meant for her client.
She gave me a thin sliver of deliciousness to try out, and I nodded happily. “This is great,” I said. “Even better than the vanilla. No wonder people keep ordering from you.”
Beth smiled happily as she ate her sliver of cake. “It’s all about word of mouth.”
Beth made a quick dash to her apartment to retrieve her fancy DSLR camera, and she snapped a few artistic cake photos to put up on her website.
“Let’s take some of Pixie,” she suggested once she was done with the cake photos. “For her Facebook page. That’ll be fun.”
“It does sound like fun,” I agreed.
Beth managed to shoot two candids of Pixie playing with toys before the parrot realized she was being photographed. Then Pixie stared into the camera and began cooing—and like a supermodel, she strutted down the stand and raised her wings up into the air, posing perfectly.
“She’s good at this,” said Beth, and the photo session continued for a few more minutes, until Pixie finally got tired of the camera and lunged at the lens, trying to bite it.
I laughed. “Yeah, she’s got diva blood all right.”
“I guess the session’s a wrap.”
Beth put the camera away, and Pixie headed into her cage to eat some pellets, when there was a knock on the door.
“Aunt Kira!” I exclaimed, ushering her in. “What’re you doing here?”
Aunt Kira was wearing a stylish silk blouse, gray slacks, and low-heeled black patent leather shoes. She looked more dressed up than normal, and I wondered what was going on.
“I thought we could have some fun,” she said, looking from me to Beth and then noticing the cakes. “Those are gorgeous. Your clients will love them!”
“Thanks!” said Beth. “We should actually head out to drop them off.”
“Hello,” said Pixie from inside her cage. “Hello. Who’s that?”
Aunt Kira turned around, noticing Pixie for the first time. “Who’s that?” Aunt Kira echoed.
“It’s Pixie,” I said. “Remember? We told you guys about her over dinner.”
“Oh, right.” Aunt Kira nodded and noticed the harness that was lying near Pixie’s cage. “What’s that?”
“What’s that?” Pixie echoed.
“It’s Pixie’s harness. I suppose she’s trained to step into it like a dog, and then we can take her out with us.”
“That sounds like fun, but we can’t take her out tonight. I’m taking you girls out for drinks and dinner.”
Beth and I groaned.
“Why?” I said. “Why do we have to go out? We’re happy being slobs. We’ll order takeout and think about our case.”
“Not tonight,” said Aunt Kira, pinning a stern gaze on me. “I know you haven’t had more than two first dates since you moved back here. What, are Santa Verona men not good enough for you?”
“Urgh, not that again,” I moaned. “Aunt Kira, I’m just not ready to start dating. I want to get my caree—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Aunt Kira said, cutting me off. “Career, shmareer.”
“You’re the one who’s always saying how important it is for a girl to have a career.”
“It is,” she said. “But it’s also important to have some fun. Meet some people. I’m not saying you should run off to Vegas and get married tonight, but you need to have some fun. And you, Beth.” She turned her gaze to my best friend, who tried not to flinch. “I’ve heard all about you dating deadbeats. The last guy you dated was indicted for white-collar fraud. Let’s go trolling for hotties together.”
I groaned again. I didn’t want to go “trolling for hotties” with my sixty-something-year-old aunt. No matter how cool she was.
“I need wingmen,” Aunt Kira said. “I’ve watched all those dating shows, and I’ve read about ‘game.’ I’ve got game. C’mon, you two, go get dressed.”
Beth and I protested, but she just wouldn’t leave us alone.
“We’ll go to Maria’s,” Aunt Kira said. “There are all kinds of people there, and you might even learn something about your case.”
Now that got my interest. Maria’s was a cop bar, and all kinds of people really did hang out there. Cops, lawyers, informants, and, of course, regular folk. And she was right about Beth needing to meet someone nice; someone who wouldn’t try to swindle her out of her rent.
“That might be a good idea,” Beth admitted. “We might meet an inebriated cop who tells us a bit more about Mike. I mean, the case. We could learn something new tonight.”
Chapter Eighteen
Beth and I drove up to the midsized parking lot in front of Maria’s. We both wore jeans and jackets over our cardigans, the better to ward off the evening chill, and had freshly applied lipstick. Beth’s clients had received their cakes gratefully, and now we stepped out of her Mazda and looked around.
The parking lot was half-full, and I expected it to get more crowded as the night wore on. The temperatures had dropped sharply after the sun had gone down, and now the wind was cold and chapped my nose. The small neon sign that said “Maria’s” looked welcoming.
“Parking lots give me the creeps,” said Beth. “Do you feel like someone’s watching us?”
“I do,” I said. “But maybe we’re imagining things.”
We hurried towards the entrance anyway, and we were about to step
inside when three men walked out, and my heart stopped.
I froze where I was, unwilling to take a step further.
Beth said, “Hey, it’s Ethan and Matt. Let’s go say hi. And who’s that guy with them?”
“Of all the bars,” I muttered, “we came to this one. We came to a cop bar. Why did we come to a cop bar?”
“Why are you muttering to yourself?” Beth said. “Are you pretending to be senile?”
I gave her a dirty look. The three men had seen us, and Matt waved, his face lighting up. “Hi, Beth,” he called out.
Beth waved back, and we trudged forward. I gave Ethan a grumpy look, and he glanced back, amused. And then the third man said, “Hello, Mindy. Nice to see you again.”
I glared at him. “Hey, Liam.”
Ethan cocked one eyebrow and said, “You two know each other?”
Liam smirked. He was as handsome as ever; if anything, age had made him look less boyish and more mature. His dark hair was cut fashionably short, and his greenish eyes still held their twinkling charm. He’d obviously—unlike me—kept up his gym regime.
“We dated for a while,” Liam said. “Back when I was a law student.”
Beth looked at me, wide-eyed. “Oh, this is Liam.”
“I see you’ve told your friends about me,” Liam said smugly. “Nice things, I hope.”
“I don’t have anything nice to say about you,” I told him honestly, but Liam laughed as though I’d make a hilarious joke.
“You’re always so funny,” he said. “No wonder you became a big hit, writing for Hollywood. And you look as lovely as ever.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He was a sociopath through and through—charm on the outside, ruthless manipulativeness on the inside. I regretted wasting a whole eighteen months of my life on him, and now I regretted coming to this bar.
Ethan’s eyes had clouded over and he looked at me impersonally. “It’s always great to hear about your active dating life,” he said drily.
“It was a short-lived casual thing,” I informed him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“No, of course not,” Ethan said lightly. “You’re a free agent. You were free to do your own thing the moment we broke up and you left Santa Verona.”
There was an awkward silence, and after a minute, I said stiffly, “I had to leave for college, you know that.” And then I turned to Liam, who looked like he was storing the entire conversation in his mental meanness bank for future reference. “What’re you doing in Santa Verona?”
“Well, as you might know,” he said, running his hand through his hair, “after I graduated law school, I did fairly well for myself. I got a lot of promotions, rather quickly.” He spoke with mock-humility, but I knew that was just his way of bragging. “I decided to work for the public sector—putting criminals behind bars, making sure they don’t get off on technicalities, that kind of thing. Maybe you understand, since you write about it? Oh, wait, you wrote about it—you don’t anymore.”
My face turned into one big chilly mask, and I stared at Liam, my old anger at him bubbling up. Liam had been the Big Man on Campus, and when we’d broken up, he’d managed to make my college life miserable without even trying. I could feel Beth’s hand on my elbow, and I knew she was holding me back from lunging at Liam’s throat and ripping his heart out.
Beth said politely, “So, you’re working in Santa Verona now?”
“Oh, yes,” Liam said. “I just moved here. Got an incredible offer from the DA’s office—I’m really lucky, you know. I feel so blessed to do this work at such a young age.”
“You’re over thirty,” I said bitterly. “You’ve got time left to have a midlife crisis.”
Liam laughed again. “You really are as funny as ever. And now we’ll get to see each other more often. I’ve read about you in the Santa Verona Sun—you’re investigating crimes here? Won’t it be fun to work together?”
I looked from him to Ethan. A smile was playing on the corners of Ethan’s mouth, and I realized he was enjoying this, now that it was apparent there weren’t any good vibes between Liam and me.
“You look great,” Matt said to Beth in the ensuing silence. “Are you guys here to meet someone?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said before Beth could answer. “Now that you’ve left your Hollywood hunks, are you finding it hard to meet nice guys here?”
He smirked at his own joke, and I gave him a dirty look in response. Beth said, “Actually, we’re meeting Mindy’s aunt here.”
“Taking a break from your investigation?” said Matt.
Beth and I nodded, and Liam said, “What investigation?”
Ethan said, “Mike hired these two to look into Timothy Broker’s death. The one we were just talking about.”
Liam laughed. “That guy’s guilty as hell. I’m going to make sure we nail him in court.”
Ethan and I exchanged a glance, and for once, I could see that we were both thinking the same thing. Liam was an overconfident jackass, and the DA’s office wasn’t going to be any better off for his help.
“So you have to work with Liam now,” I said, raising one eyebrow at Ethan. “Fun for you.”
Ethan shrugged. “Working closely with the DA’s office is one of the ways we ensure that justice gets served,” he said, his voice polite and neutral.
“I just need to convince these guys to find some more evidence,” Liam said. “Putting bad guys away isn’t so hard if we just all pull our own weight.”
The implication that Ethan and Matt weren’t pulling their weight hung heavy in the air, and the two detectives exchanged a sardonic glance but didn’t respond.
Beth and I were about to say goodbye and head inside, when the sharp clicking of stilettos on concrete grew louder behind us, and we turned to see Neve sashaying her way over. She had changed from her morning outfit into a low-cut sweater, tight jeans, and black boots with stiletto heels.
“This is perfect,” I muttered. “All of my favorite people.”
“Be nice to her,” Beth reminded me as Neve did a little finger-wave towards our group.
“Hello, guys,” she said, walking up to us. “What’re you all doing here? Not talking shop without me, I hope.”
She gave Ethan a saccharine-sweet smile. Ethan hadn’t been a jock in high school, but because he’d always been pretty cute, he’d never been a complete loser in the eyes of the “cool kids.”
Ethan nodded curtly at her in greeting, and she exchanged hellos with Matt, and then turned her attention to Liam. “Hello, there,” she said, batting her eyelashes and extending a hand. “I’m Neve.”
“Liam.” He shook her hand, but didn’t seem overly impressed by the batting lashes or the low-cut sweater. “Are you working with Mindy?”
“Mindy?” Neve raised her eyebrows and blinked slowly, as though she’d just been asked if she liked to eat cockroaches for dinner. “No. No, no, no.”
“Oh, well.” Liam smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, then.”
“And what do you do?”
Neve’s voice was low and full of innuendo, and I looked at Ethan. He rolled his eyes skyward and threw me a give me a break look, and I smiled.
Liam and Neve flirted like teenagers for a few more minutes, while I tried not to puke in my mouth. Finally, Ethan and Matt decided they’d had enough and headed off. Beth and I left Neve chatting with Liam outside and headed in to look for Aunt Kira.
Maria’s was warm and cozy inside, with exposed brick walls and a long bar along one side, a couple of tables scattered around, and comfy booths along the far wall. We crossed the floor, heading towards the booths, and Beth said, “You have to admit, those two would make a great couple. Perfect for each other.”
“I don’t think so. They’re both full of themselves. Liam always wanted someone who’d be his slave and make him look good. He told me he wants to run for office at some point.”
“Neve would make great political arm candy.”
“I don’t think she
can think about anything other than herself for five minutes at a time,” I said. “And I don’t think she’d be too happy to be any man’s slave.”
We saw Aunt Kira sitting in a booth at the far end, and we waved to her. I turned around one last time, looking out the window that faced the parking lot. From where we stood, I could see Neve getting into her black Hyundai sedan and driving off. Liam was standing by himself, talking to someone on his cell phone.
I was suddenly overwhelmed by it all. Why did Liam have to move to Santa Verona and be one more person to make my life miserable? Aunt Kira was right; it was high time I did something fun.
Beth and I slid into the booth opposite Aunt Kira, and I glanced at the drinks menu. An image of a ski-mask-clad man flickered before my eyes, and I wondered why someone would want to vandalize Tim’s café: had it been a cold-blooded crime, or a sudden act of passion?
Chapter Nineteen
Aunt Kira said she didn’t believe in a patriarchal society, and she definitely didn’t believe in one where women had to drop everything once they got married. She’d been married once, and divorced a year later, and since then, she’d been reluctant to settle down.
However, she radiated charm and intelligence, and by the end of the night, she’d exchanged numbers with not one but two retirees who’d moved to Santa Verona recently.
Beth and I met nobody.
We drove home in Beth’s car, and then we trudged upstairs and over to my apartment, so that Beth could collect her baking things.
I pushed my apartment door open, turned on the light, and said hello to Pixie. She’d been huddled in one corner of her cage, sleeping, and she blinked slowly when she saw us, and then yawned and stretched out her wings.
“Did you have a good sleep?” I cooed to her. “You can go back to sleep in a few minutes. Aunt Beth’s going to get her things and leave.”
Beth was ignoring Pixie and staring at a large envelope that was lying on the floor, just before my front door.
“What’s this?” she said. “I don’t remember seeing this when we left.”
“Maybe it’s a flyer,” I said, picking up the envelope. It was unmarked, and I opened it and slid out a piece of paper, expecting to see an ad for a garage sale, or a price list for Wong’s Noodle Bar, and then I frowned.
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